


Between the Lines

by fatesHacker



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6973855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatesHacker/pseuds/fatesHacker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small series of what may have happened between Laslow and F!MU's supports.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Between C and B

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first fanfic I'm actually posting, and the first fanfic I've written in years. I was honestly just overwhelmed by my love for Laslow and disappointment at not having him (or Selena and Odin) never telling the avatar their true name like they did in the original version. So, here we are. Feedback appreciated! ^_^

He was at it again. Laslow was flirting with one of the poor ladies of the army. You watched him spout some ridiculous line as you passed by, a crate of supplies in hand. Why wouldn’t he just leave them alone? It’s clear as the crystal waters of the lake that they did not care for his flirting. The only woman that seemed willing to deal him was Peri, but they were both Xander’s retainers so she must have built up tolerance.

Actually, it was rather impressive. The girl clearly rejected him and he smiled brightly anyway, probably delivering another line about how fate would bring them together again. He then proceeded to find the next girl to chat up. You watched him for a little while longer before adjusting your grip on the crate and moving on. He did say that he didn’t like to be stared at, so it would be rude to watch him for too long. Still, his perseverance was incredible. You know he chatted up women in the villages that the army passed as well. He simply did not care who it was, so long as he could find a skirt to flirt with.

You remembered his reaction to you originally agreeing to get tea with him and chuckled. He was so flustered. It was unlike his suave facade he had when delivering those lines so easily. Even then, he still picked right back up when rejected. He sure is strange.


	2. Between B and A

Tired from the recent battle, you retire to your private quarters. You look at the wounds you received. They were small, but they were still bothersome. You searched the tent for a brief moment before picking up the salve that Laslow had given you a few days earlier. 

You sat down on your bed and looked down at the salve, remembering when he gave it to you. He seemed different that day. Of course, he easily admitted how many women he used those lines on, but it felt different. It felt more honest. When he spoke about meeting people and how each time may be the last, he was so serious. Was he planning on leaving soon? Why would he leave?

Wait. Why do you care?

Well he’s a valued member of the army, you tell yourself. He’s very powerful and when he dances in battle he seems to give people strength. When he’s supporting you on the battlefield, you feel safe despite yourself. You know he will protect you if necessary, though you prefer to never let it be necessary. You don’t want him to get hurt. You blush a little at the thought. You wouldn’t want to get anyone hurt just because you needed protection. Besides, he’s the same with almost everyone. He is a very valuable asset. It would be a shame if he left so suddenly.

You dab your finger in the salve and spread it on one of the scrapes on your arm. You felt instantly relieved. You smiled and hummed to yourself, suddenly aware of how quiet it was in your room. Maybe you would go to tea with him, as thanks for the gift. After all, he did have a point about never being certain when you would see him again.


	3. Between A and S

You and Laslow had tea a few times, just chatting about little details about your lives. You would tell him about your life in the fortress and the Nohrian siblings. In return he would tell funny stories, usually involving Odin and Selena. You were shocked at how well the three knew each other. Still, it was nice to see him like this and not constantly flirting. You learned about his mother, who according to him was a fantastic dancer and his inspiration, and his passion for dancing because of her.

During these little sessions, you began to notice little details about him. He would always redden when asked something personal or when caught off guard by a question. When he wasn’t putting on airs, he was actually very shy. It was sweet seeing him let his guard down around you. Of course, you also noticed little details about yourself as well. You noticed how your heart quickened slightly whenever he laughed, and how completely relaxed you felt around him. Each time, the parting was bittersweet. You knew it had to happen, but you hated it.

You smile fondly at the memories as you mix some tea. You hear a knock at the door and turn around in time to see Laslow peek his head in. “Hello, my lady,” he said as he walked in, grinning his usual grin.

You smiled back at him. “Hello, Laslow. Go ahead and take a seat. The tea is almost ready.” He grimaced a little and you giggled. “Don’t worry. Jakob watched me make a pot about thirty times straight before finally deciding I did not need assistance with making tea anymore. If it’s not to your liking, you don’t have to drink it.”

“Oh, do not worry about me, my lady. Whatever you make is sure to be as sweet as your smile,” he said as he sat.

There he goes with the lines again. Yet, you can’t help but smile as you finish brewing the tea. You set everything on a tray and deliver it to the small table. You pour him a cup before pouring yourself one. He thanks you and takes it, blowing on it gently. He face seemed a bit flushed, though you were not sure why. Maybe the tea was too hot? You sit down and gently blow on your own cup for good measure. Laslow takes a sip and you can’t help but watch him intently. His shoulders relax and you let out a small relieved sigh that you didn’t realize you were holding in. You take a sip yourself, pleased that you didn’t screw it up this time.

He sets down his cup but still grips the handle tightly. He fidgets in his seat a bit. As you set your own cup down, you begin to strike up a conversation. He cuts you off as you open your mouth. “My lady.” His eyes are focused on his tea.

“Yes?”

He closes his eyes, as if what he’s about to say is going to cause a great deal of pain. “I have a confession to make.”

Your heart beats in your ears for a moment. Your face flushes. Oh gods, have you done something to offend him? He’s become such a good friend, you would hate to have offended him. “Yes? What is it?” You struggle to keep your voice even.

He starts fidgeting a bit, rubbing his thumb on the handle of his tea cup. He says your name and the seriousness in his tone makes you shiver. “I trust you with my life. Over our time together I have decided that you are someone very important to me. That is why I must tell you.”

“Tell me what, Laslow?”

“A-actually, it’s about that.”

“What?”

“I-It’s about my name.”

“Your name?”

“Y-yes. It’s fake.”

You stare at him for a moment. You are not sure what to say. In fact, you have absolutely no idea how to respond to that. He’s been lying to you this whole time? What else has he lied about? He must see that you’re having difficulty and picks up. “My name is actually Inigo,” he says, managing to look up at you. His eyes are intense and serious, but his hands are shaking.

“Inigo…” you repeat softly, still in disbelief.

You could have sworn that he shivered when you said his name, but it was so small that you dismissed it. “Y-yes,” he responded. “My name is Inigo. Please do not tell anyone else. Only two other people know, but I needed to tell you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Instead, you just stared at him. He shifted under your gaze, his face beginning to flush. A minute passed with you just sitting there, staring in shock. He looked like he was overheating when he shouted, “Stop staring at me!”

You withdrew a little, looking down and rubbing your neck. “S-sorry,” you respond.

The silence was heavy between you two. The tea between you two grew colder as neither of you made a sound. You just looked at the smooth surface of the cup, trying to get your thoughts into order. He waited for you to say something, anything.

“I promise I will not tell a soul,” you said.

All the tension in his body seemed to flee from him. He slumped back in his chair, his chest rising slightly as he took in a deep breath. He let it out in a sigh-like laugh. “Oh thank the gods,” he chuckled softly, regaining his usual grin.

You leaned back in your seat, stroking the handle of your coffee cup with your thumb. You were aware of your heartbeat quickening slightly. He actually trusted you to know something that was clearly important to him. You smiled.

“Inigo”

He tensed a bit as he looked up to acknowledge you. “Yes, my lady?” he asked.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this. I just really, really wanted Inigo to confess about his name, so I had to make it happen. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
